


The lion cub and it's kitten friends

by Pearlislove



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: #75thhungergames, #Beress, #CatchingFire, #JohannasPOV, #Quarterquell, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:05:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlislove/pseuds/Pearlislove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johanna Mason doesn't like other victors...mostly. The nerds from District 3, Beetee and Wiress, are acceptable people, if a little insane. Blight is also acceptable, of course, if not because he makes Johanna laugh. Though of course it would be better if he'd stop calling her 'The lion cub'...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The lion cub and it's kitten friends

A/N: Sooo, this is basically a lot of my Hunger Games headcanons, made into a collection of connected one-shots mostly written in Johanna Mason’s POV (may throw in some chapters in other character’s POV). Take place during Catching Fire and will mostly focus on Johanna and her relations to Wiress and Beetee and Blight (and their relations to each other). I originally wrote this cuz I always thought Johanna and Beetee and Wiress got along waaay better than it seems in the book. Like, really, I don’t think she despise them that much. Updates will be about once a month , depending on schoolwork etc..

 

“What the fuck?! Are they fucking kidding me?!” Blight screamed, jumping up from his seat on the couch and glaring at the screen, where President Snow was smiling victoriously after just having announced the already existing victors in each district would be reaped as tributes for the 75th Hunger Games.

“President Snow is a huge dick” I said calmly, oddly enough feeling far less aggravated compared to Blight. “He thinks he can get away with this? There is gonna be uprisings in the fucking capitol over this!”

“Still, that won’t really help us when Chantelle is picking our names at the reaping ” Blight sight, sitting back down in the worn out brown leather couch. “We’re dead, Cube”

Leaning a little further back into the couch, I bit my lip hard in an attempt to stop myself from pointing out - again - how much I hated that specific nickname. Blight knew very well that it bothered me, and as far as I knew he couldn’t care less. To him I would always be ‘the Cube’.

At least when I went back into the games, I would get a chance to show my claws. Being the kind of person I was, I had a reputation that didn’t allow me to go down without a fight.

I was just going to ask if he wanted me to get us some beers (from my house, I doubted there was anything left of his stash, considering how anxious he’s been these last few weeks) when I heard the phone ringing in the kitchen.Preferably, I would have used the same strategy as Blight and ignored it, but the sound drilled itself into my head and I soon reasoned that it was easier to just go get it.

“Johanna Mason. What do you want?” I said sharply, knowing that I wouldn’t offend noone. The only one who’d have a victor’s telephonenumber, or a telephone at all, would be someone from the capitol, a district mayor or an other victor. I didn’t care for either and they knew it.

“Hi Johanna, it’s...uh...it’s Beetee Latier. Is Blight there?” A nervous-sounding man’s voice spoke up on the other side, speaking quietly and stammering slightly. It took me a moment to process the words, barely having heard them over a weird background noise that sounded like a person whimpering. I sure hoped it wasn’t a person whimpering.

“Oh, you want to talk to Blight. Yeah sure, a moment” I replied when I finally realised what he was saying, lowering the phone to my shoulder and turning towards the living room. “Blight! Your buddy from three is on the phone!”

"Is Volts on the phone? What the fuck does he want?!” Blight called back, still not moving from the couch and eyeing me suspiciously. Like it was a fucking prank or something.

'“He didn’t say! Just take the phone jackass!” I explained, frustrated at Blight being so slowly and almost deaf, before putting the phone back up to my ear. “He’ll be here in a minute, he’s just a slow idiot”

Beetee didn’t respond to me this time, and I didn’t care. The weird sound in the background had increased in volume and I didn’t think I would hear if he was talking anyway.For quite a long while, I was left listening to the creepy noise on the other side and watching as Blight slowly rose from the couch and sauntered over to the kitchen area.

“Give me the phone” he said when he finally came to the kitchen, stretching out his hand expectantly.

“Here you go. Remember to ask him to speak up. You’re almost deaf and there’s some fucking static on his end of the line or something.” I said, dropping the phone in his hand and returning to the couch.

Once seated on the couch, I didn’t quite know what to do. I was still unimaginably pissed at Snow for doing what he’s doing, and most of all I would just like to go home and have a beer and throw some axes at my wall...but I also knew that I wasn’t quite ready to leave Blight alone due to the risk that he’d do something unimaginably stupid, which I knew from past experience wouldn’t be beyond him to actually do, as annoying as that might be.

And after all, last time I left him all alone when he was angry/pissed/whatever, he had needed no less than ten stitches. And as if that wasn’t bad enough it had been just two days before the reaping of the 74th annual Hunger Games. Our districts escort, Chantelle, and the prep team had been absolutely furious and demanding to know what he was thinking, warning that if he didn’t started taking responsibility for himself, he might one day end up on the same low level as the victor from District Twelve, Haymitch Abernathy. At this, Blight had simply scoffed, saying that it at least would be better than being like Brutus and Enobaria or Gloss and Cashmere (I always appreciated his fierce hate of the career districts, it matched my own).

So with nothing better to do, not wanting to leave but not wanting to stay on the couch unless I could have some alcohol to calm my overactive mind with, I once more rose from the couch and entered the kitchen with the aim to try and find some beer. Already from the start I had half a mind to listen in on Volts and Blight’s conversation, too, because why not? I was bored and needed a beer _so_ much.

“Yeah, I get it Beetee, of course it’s scary but...oh damn it can’t you just tell the old nutcase to shut up?! I can’t fucking hear you over all the noise she’s making!” Blight swore as I entered the kitchen, and first now did I realise that the ‘static’ on the other hand had been a human.

 _‘Of course Nuts and Volts watched the Quarter Quell announcement toghether...bet she had a panic attack when she found out she might be going back in there, too!’_   I thought, frowning and quickly busying myself with opening some more cupboards in my continued search for beer or some other alcohol. I wasn’t very interested in Beetee and Blights conversation anymore. After all, if Nuts and Volts went into the games they’d die soon, so they weren’t worth the brain power.

Yet as I continued my search for beer, my thoughts returned to the odd pair from District three. Beetee Latier and Wiress Router was their real names, but I had long ago nicknamed them ‘Nuts and Volts’. It had by now grown popular enough that they were rarely referred to by name anymore. My reason behind the shared nickname had been the rather obvious fact that they were a couple and practically glued together at the hips, never to be seen on their own. If you had Nuts, you had Volts, and if you had Volts, you also had Nuts, no two ways about it. Even moments apart would upset the couple to the extreme, especially Nuts, who due to a brain damage sustained in her games depend Volts to support her in social situations. The mentors from District three was in fact so close that most victors argued that they had developed codependency issues, which was most likely true.

“Cube, the beer is **here** ” Blight said, stretching his arms above my head and opening the one of the tob cabinets, where I saw two six packs with beer waiting. Eager, I stretched my arm out to get one of them, but Blight took them before i had a chance to grab one.

“What do we say when we want beer, cube?” Blight asked, smiling playfully and dangling one of the six packs in front of my face.

“Could you please give me a beer, **grandpa**?” i said, firing off a triumphant smile and receiving two beers as reward. “Hope you were able to sort things out with volts, by the way” I added, opening a beer and taking a sip. I could immediately tell from the taste that it was the strong, bitter kind that Blight always fancied.

“Yeah, he just needed to discuss the announcement with someone in the same boat” Blight replied absentmindedly, the deep frown etched to his face clearly showing that he was lying, and I frowned too.

_I really hate being a younger victor…_

It wasn’t the first time I had had that thought, and it burned a little extra in my heart knowing that it probably wouldn’t be the last time, either. To a beginning, I had had a hard time fitting in with the other victors, and therefore the fact that I was being excluded didn’t become clear until I found my place. Once I knew my role in the group, however, the older victors active exclusion of the younger victors became painfully obvious. Knowing that they were hiding things from you were painful. Talking to some of the other younger ones, like Finnick, made it clear that we didn’t feel validated enough. None of us felt like we could actually count for victors until our games lay ten, fifteen years behind us, even though the fact that we were actually standing here should be proof enough. But it clearly didn’t. And now, when I was going to get reaped again, I might never have the chance to become a real victor after all…


End file.
